Like A Canvas
by ShadowedSoulSpirit
Summary: Starting the World Academy was nothing but a chore for Holy Rome. However, reminants of his pasts are lurking in the shadows, ready to greet him in more ways then one. This a modern take on Holy Rome's time. Rated T for impending stuff and possible future Romano language.
1. The World Academy

**Like A Canvas**

**A Hetalia story.**

The World Academy was buzzing with life a fine September morning. Friends greeted one another with hearty smiles and awkward hugs, catching one another up on the events that happened over the summer. The autumn trees were slowly wilting away their colorful leaves, making the grounds a massive pool of beautiful golds and reds and oranges. The sun was shrouded oh so conveniently with a bunch of stray clouds, depleting the light from the earth's surface. Many students scurried to their various classrooms in search of their locations, many of them being young countries. At the World Academy, age knew no boundary. Even the youngest of countries, not even even with many older countries knees were required to attend the school.

This is where you would find the blossoming empire of Holy Rome, walking the hallways with the upmost confidence that could only come from his overly prideful brother.

He had managed to lose him back in the Autumn Grounds as it was referred too. Luckily, Prussia's girlfriend, Hungary, stopped the older country and demanded the ritual good morning hug and kiss. Holy Rome used this convenient time to sneak away as fast as possible, knowing full well that Prussia would swoon over his first day at the Academy. The former Teutonic was very reluctant to let his brother go to school. It was a sign he was growing older, and Prussia did not like this one bit. He didn't like it to the point that he sabotaged his brother on several accounts this morning. First was the fact that he changed the shampoo to glue. Sadly, Holy Rome had taken a shower the night before and had no reason to repeat it. Prussia hid every shred of food from him, but that didn't faze the young Empire. He simply shrugged his shoulders. His older brother even went as far as to cutting little holes into all his clothes. He was not prepared when the co-owner of their house, a musician by the name of Austria, just happened to know how to mend them.

Despite his cockiness and overall attitude, Prussia is a very, very clingy person.

Holy Rome paused for a moment to look out onto the Autumn Grounds. The colors bleed together into a beautiful harmony of the warm tones, contrasting against the well-kept grass. The crimson red, the copper, the blood orange, and the amber all swirled from the trees like individual birds, trying desperately to fly again before they settle on the ground. The wind has yet to grow harsh like it did in the winter, killing the vibrant colors from the leaves.

The Autumn Grounds would eventually turn into the Barren Grounds. Holy Rome did not like the idea of the Barren Grounds. Prussia recalled many times when students slipped on a patch of black ice and broke some kind of bone. There was even a death uttered once. In the middle of the Autumn Grounds, surrounded by the lush trees and the school itself is a clear pond, one which you can see the clouds pass across as though as it was the sky itself. Prussia had claimed that a student had tried to ice skate, and the ice cracked around him. Unable to swim, the rather young student either drowned, or froze to death. No one really knew. The story gave Holy Rome the chills, to the point that Austria had to scowl Prussia for being so ignorant of my age.

The Autumn Grounds were a bright, warm, uplifting place. Holy Rome very much enjoyed bounding across it with his brother before he got distracted. He didn't want to see something beautiful disappear. Harshly, his memory reminds him he had already done such a thing, to someone long ago. Hastily, the empire quickly walks away from the window as though as he could escape the very memory itself. Even more depressing than the Barren Grounds will be its reincarnation, dubbed the Meadow. That's when sprouts of flowers appear, decorating the ground with blues and reds and yellows. The trees would recover from their freeze, supplying their limbs with ripe leaves. The pond would glitter and gleam, but to Holy Rome it would not be beautiful. It would be a bitter reminder of the meadow he used to traverse daily in order to meet the girl he had fallen so deeply for. Holy Rome had left her suddenly, following in his brother footsteps as he moved somewhere else, trying to escape the countries duties for only a little while. There was a short kiss and abrupt goodbye and he was gone.

She cried out that they would keep contact.

He had failed to do so.

The first few months she sent letters weekly, then they turned daily. At one point he even received two letters on the same day. She was desperately waiting for a reply, which Holy Rome did not give. Prussia urged the young empire to do so, but the stubborn boy had refused. All along, he had been trying to deny having feelings for another country. He knew it could turn out bad. Even though he was surrounded with prime examples of how that was not so, he still did not believe it would work out. The letters piled up in his bedroom until the ceased to come.

Funny thing is, Holy Rome never considered seeing her at the World Academy. He was too busy trying to avoid his brother at the moment.

This was also, another downfall. Holy Rome had never attended school before; therefore he didn't have a clue where the other classes would be held. He just wondered aimlessly, occasionally glancing out the windows to spot variations in the Autumn Grounds. As a custom, students would arrive an hour early on the first day of school to greet on another and show new faces around. That meant Holy Rome was stuck roaming the hallways for a good hour, give or take the minutes Prussia took to find a parking space that wouldn't quote 'mess up his ride'.

Nearly at the point of frustration, Holy Rome exited yet another school building, deciding that maybe his brother's guidance would be useful after all. Finding the social nation was easier stated, then carried out. The empire was well aware that he was most likely chatting away with his two best friends, Spain and France.

Just follow the stream of fan girls, Holy Rome thought smugly, very familiar with the trios social standings within the school.

Maybe thirty minutes passed, he estimated, before he found his older brother lying on the slopes leading to the pond, cradling a girl to his chest. His eyes were close in a blissful sort of way, something which Holy Rome has rarely seen. His lips were quirked into a smile. Not one of his goofy, or snarky ones, but a sincere one that was also foreign to the young nation. The girl who he identified as Hungary slept soundlessly on his brother's chest, enjoying the symphony the sounds that incased the two like they were the only pair left in the world. It was a moment that should be trapped in a picture, or a canvas. Holy Rome substituted this as best as he could. Reaching into his pocket, he fishes out his phone. He quickly snaps the photo before the shutter gave him away. Hungary lifts her head up, noticing his presence for the first time. Before she could notice, Holy Rome slipped the phone back in his pocket.

"Oh hello Holy Rome." She greets.

Prussia nearly shoves his girlfriend off, scrambling to his feet as he almost tackles his little brother to the ground. Squeezing him tightly in a bone crushing hug, Prussia took a moment to shake the younger one.

"Where were you!" He demanded, as though as he was a mother reprimanding her child.

"Be nice!" Hungary swats the former Teutonic knight in a threatening way, making him lower Holy Rome to the ground.

Almost for a brief moment, the world bleeds away. All the sounds just stopped for the young nation. Holy Rome adverted his eyes to the pond, looking at the surface like it was one giant mirror. Reflected upon its surface was a face.

A face he so desperately tried to forget.

In a flurry of black, Holy Rome retreats from the water's edge, once again attempting to escape the haunting memories of his past that for some reason were starting to bug him today of all days. Today was supposed to be a good day, becoming acquainted with other countries and the Autumn Grounds he suddenly came to adore. Shaking his head, Holy Rome refocused the world around him, letting the sounds and colors leak back into the almost bleak world. All this took mere seconds. Prussia was quick to catch up with his younger brother, worried that something was wrong. Holy Rome simply brushed off the peppered questions, stating quietly that he was lost and needed help. Prussia promptly said goodbye to Hungary before leading his brother, Hungary's worried gaze burning into the back of the duos heads as they left.

The leaves crunch underneath there feet like little drum beats of a death march that on many occasions Holy Rome had heard. It was especially clear for him; the rapid tapping was, on the day of his grandfather's funeral. It was a major eye opener for the countries he had left behind.

It was true that a country could die.

Shaking his head furiously, he tries banishing the rather sour memories. His past was filled to the brink of unpleasant things that are beginning to bug him. He reminded himself strictly that it was just school. No need to work himself up and uncover some truly horrific memories. He decided instead to focus his attention on the Autumn Grounds before him, noting the different synonyms of the colors he saw. Hungary taught him that. She taught him that for painting so he could be good for-

Holy Rome does not continue this. Instead he counts each yellow leaf he saw. There was one particular one had darkened far more than the rest, resulting in a soft brown. It reminded him of her eyes-

The young nation's looked up at the sky abruptly, deeming the leaves to memorable and would just drag out more and more scenes of his past. He watched fluffy ivory pass over head like bloated balls of cotton dragging themselves across a blue landscape. He wondered vaguely what it would be like in the Autumn Grounds when the sky was painted a deep, midnight blue that stretched across the never ending sky. Glittering dots would appear within it, forming shapes and things that only she could name-

Holy Rome was growing angry with himself. Everything reminded him of her, as though as it was a fresh wound that just only started healing. It had been a good two years since he had left her. He just couldn't understand why he was feeling this way, a sort of knot being wound in his stomach that made him grow nauseous. It almost like the feeling you get when something bad is about to happen, but not quite the same. There was just a little something that differed from that feeling.

And it was the fluttering of Holy Rome's heart.

"Here we are." Prussia interrupts his thoughts, introducing a door like it was a live person.

Holy Rome's heart began pounding furiously, confusing the little boy until he realized a little too late, mid-way into the classroom, that there was a reason behind his nervousness. Upon the mat in the middle of the classroom sat a little girl, surrounded by bunched up mint colored material. Her head quirked to look at the door, to him, shaking the wayward curl protruding cutely from the side of her auburn hair.

Holy Rome takes two steps back as quick as he could, but this he couldn't escape.

"Holy Rome?" Her voice inquires, pulling Holy Rome's heart strings so tightly that it felt like he could no longer breathe.

Truth be told, he much rather be lost in the Autumn Grounds instead of facing a fraction of his past that he believed had disappeared.

He would much rather be anywhere else but here with the girl he had left almost two autumns ago.

**Soooo watcha think? This story was actually supposed to be something entirely different XD I dunno I guess Liet's words just spark something.**

**-Soul Spirit-**


	2. A Mint Colored Dress

**Chapter 2: A Mint Colored Dress**

The morning was rather woeful for Holy Rome. Turmoil was like a cloud clinging to the atmosphere around him, making the stifling hours within the classroom even more terrible than it already was. The teacher was a nice woman by the name of Byzantium. It took the class of eight several attempts to even get remotely close to it. The olive skinned teacher simply smiled, little dimples blossoming on her cheeks. She brushed the chocolate brown hair from where it grew into her eyes and informed them that they could simply call her Mrs. Santium, as it was the easiest pronunciation for the young nations' mouths. A few of the students within the azure walls were just learning the languages of their countries, and had yet to become familiar with the internationally used English.

Holy Rome tried to focus elsewhere than the mint colored dress that was a mere inch away from him. Instead he trailed his eyes along the walls of his classroom. The pale cyan stretched across the walls like a long piece of fabric, wrapping around wires leading into the classroom and looping under the marker boards before stopping at the chestnut door. The class was sitting on a brown rug that was far more comfortable than the wooden floors that creaked when someone put too much weight on it. A blond boy with the brightest sapphire eyes exclaimed someone could fall to the basement, causing his twin brother to respond that it wasn't true. Mrs. Santium lined the walls with pretty pictures of the alphabet and colors and numbers alongside huge scaled maps of the entire world. At one point during the 'meet and greet' section, the teacher eagerly pointed out the territory that was her, remarking on stories of how things used to be. She plots her finger right on a rather scrawny looking country that was claimed mostly by the Mediterranean Sea. She explained that the country was known as Greece, and that was her son whom she loved dearly. Holy Rome liked her. It reminded him of a much more calm and subtle form of his brother. With her ivory dress and a positive glow about her, the young nation wondered if she happened to be an angel. That was until he felt his hand being nudged. His body seized up as he turns to look at the face of the girl so strategically placed beside him.

Her cheeks were rounded and dusty a rosy color that made it appear as though as she was blushing. Her long eyelashes patted her skin each time she batted her beautiful molten brown eyes. Her eyebrows were knitted together in confusion, and her eyes were a vat of sadness, confusion, and concern. She cupped Holy Rome's hand in her small, pale ones, cradling it like it was a lost child. The Empire shudders, goose bumps rising along his skin. He did not want to speak to the girl he had practically abandoned. But the girl thought differently. Her mind was a loose merry-go-round, spinning so rapidly she could hardly keep up with her own thought process. Luckily for Holy Rome, Mrs. Santium decided to pass the rest of the hour before lunch by introducing each other one by one, interrupting the young girl before she could say a word.

"Since we are going to be a family here, we need to get to know our family better." She smiled, her dimples echoing it, "So who would like to introduce themselves and tell me one thing about themselves?"

The blond boys hand shot up instantly, waving it around so furiously it could've fell off. Mrs. Santium intentionally missed his hand for a few minutes before he instantly said, "Pick meeee."

She chuckled quietly, inviting the boy to stand before everyone at the front of the classroom.

"I'm America and I'm the hero!" He jeered, raising his fist up as a smile plastered its way onto his face.

Mrs. Santium claps her hands respectively as the boy took his seat. The twin took his brother's place, nervously swaying back and forth on the balls of his feet as though as he could avoid the event all together. He murmured something along the identifiable lines of 'Canada and I like' before scurrying back to his seat marked purposely with blue tape. The duo was nurtured greatly by an older sibling that was also reluctant at their separation. They were treated well never the less, and revealed in the fact that they are loved so dearly. The next student was a girl with a particular gaze that fazed all the children within the room aside from the teacher. In a bored, monotone voice she announced she was Belarus, and that she enjoys spending time with her older brother. Belarus was one of the older children within the class, which displeased her greatly. The lower classmen were separated from the upper, meaning she was apart from her dear brother for half the day. This inner turmoil however will be kept a secret for a time being. A little boy with ebony hair stiffly stands in front of the eight pairs of eyes, looking everywhere but them. He curtly answered that he was Japan where the sun rises, and he did not have anything to tell us about him. Japan was more of a closed off child, which causes his older brother to purse his lips in frustration and shake his head. With hardly a friend aside from his abundance of siblings, Japan was most defiantly the loner of the classroom. A boy who had similar characteristics to the previous country, like the sharp nose and the deep set eyes was Korea. Korea explained without a moment's hesitation that he invented everything in the world, shocking most of the children into believing the fib. Mrs. Santium crosses her arms, but does not smother the child's imagination.

The next child, dressed in rather large boys clothes steps up. Holy Rome remembered vaguely the brother that defended the girl so protectively during the time they spent together. It surprised him a little that he was now wearing boy's clothes instead of the matching dress with his sister. The boy's name clicked in his head as he said it, a fraction of Italy dubbed Romano with a love for tomatoes and siestas. Romano's eyes narrowed as the despicable return of the Holy Roman Empire. He knew there was nothing to trust about the battle hungry nation, and he had been proven right the very day he had abandoned his sister.

Holy Rome had yet to find out the so called girl was not so feminine after all.

Romano invited his sister to join him, and the Empire was quick to advert his eyes. Her little voice rang out across the room, piercing Holy Rome's heart like sword. She was called Italy and she enjoyed pasta and paintings. Romano then pulled his sister to set beside him, giving little relief to the flustered country on the back row of the room. He wanted to learn about the other countries of the world, but it was becoming difficult do the fact that _she_ was in the room, practically mocking him in the face like it was proclaiming 'you cannot escape from the past you did once face'. With his breath again getting snagged in his throat, Holy Rome shakingly walked to the front of the classroom, being the last student to introduce himself. His few moments of silence were answered by encouraging words from Mrs. Santium, urging him that there was nothing to fear. They were all family within the folds of azure walls.

Trying to collect as much breath as possible for the few words he was about to speak, Holy Rome wondered vaguely if he would pass out from breathing so rapidly.

"I am the Holy Roman Empire and I…" His eyes connect with Italy's, blue contracting amber that made Holy Rome's stomach churn violently. "Abandoned Italy!"

In a flurry of black like that day two autumns ago, Holy Rome bolts from the classroom at breakneck speed, desperately in search for a bathroom. Luckily, one was stationed nearby. The door clattered shut behind him, unable to stifle the sounds of him retching. Mrs. Santium dutifully followed him, occasionally knocking on the door to make sure he was alright. It wasn't long before the teacher had to dismiss the little ones for lunch. Quickly informing the empire that she would return, she goes back to the classroom. She hurries and wraps up the section, telling the students that she enjoyed walks in the Autumn Grounds each morning. She told them more fine details of her son, Greece, and little America inquired his whereabouts. As the bells rang, Mrs. Santium explained that he was ill and could not attend school. She promptly released the children, explaining that no matter what they were not allowed to leave the Autumn Grounds. One country however stayed behind.

It was the little country with the mint colored dress and cheery voice that pronounced Italy with pride.

Mrs. Santium called Prussia, receiving his voice mail the first three times before an actual voice. She explained the situation to the brother with Italy standing nearby. Prussia's responses were kept simple with Okays and uh-huh. Once the teacher finished her story, Prussia said he would come a get his brother the moment he let out for lunch.

A pale faced nation snuck out of the bathroom before Mrs. Santium could return, quickly retreating to the Autumn Grounds before he could be stopped by any school personal. Holy Rome allowed his feet to carry him away from the gut clenching fear he felt gnawing at him, hissing out the truth in such a bitter way that the Empire's eyes stung with tears. Tripping on a hidden root covered by the beautiful tie dye of autumn, he laid sprawled out on the ground for a moment. He was so close to the water's edge that the mirror surface reflected his face ashened by a recent retching and the full realization of what he had done to poor Italy through the course of the two years he ignored her. Holy Rome cries bitterly, his tears dripping and shattering the perfect unity of the water's surface. For many months, Holy Rome denied all feelings for the young nation; but like a cruel twist of karma, they have come back in full undeniable force. Tearfully, the young country retrieves his phone, clicking through the pictures until right before his eyes was the photo he had taken that morning. Could he be happy like his brother? Or would there just be more pain and suffering along the road? With no one to answer his questions, Holy Rome curls up next to the water and allowed his weariness to overtake him.

Aside from his past, something else began to haunt Holy Rome in his sleep. He imagined a young boy treading along the icy pond of the Barren Ground, skating as best as he could without an actual pair. Holy Rome nearly screamed with the cracks as they echoed throughout the night, and the ice shattered around the boy, drawling him into the chilly mouth of the water. He thought for a moment that the black clothes were his; that the blond hair and blue eyes were his; that the boy was him, slipping into the depths of the pond to never be seen again.

Prussia's adventure was a fun and rather scary one. He responded to the young countries teacher as fast as he could, but the moment he entered the building she exclaimed Holy Rome was no longer there. Prussia trudged through all the buildings acquired by the World Academy before tackling the vast expansion of the Autumn Grounds. In certain areas the wood was dense, making it even more pressing that he searched thoroughly in order to locate his missing sibling. His mind was racing with all the possibilities, all of which were bad, of what could've happened to Holy Rome. His heart could rest soundly when he say the little boy asleep amongst the various colored leaves, clutching his phone in a death grip. Trotting over to him, he kneels next to Holy Rome.

Shadowing him behind a tree plagued by autumn's beauty was a small nation, whose mint dress could not be hidden behind it.

**Historically speaking, I'm not trying to be accurate. I'm using the characters I want when I want them lol. There is some reason behind the madness~**

**-Soul Spirit-**


	3. Sinful Pride

**Chapter Three: Sinful Pride**

* * *

September blossomed into October and with it brought a steady stream of pumpkin oranges and ebony blacks, strung up ghosts and kids eager for the one day of year they can fill their mouths with so much sugary wonder and not be reprimanded for it. The minor sway in the weather had yet to deplete the leaves of their bountiful colors, pleasing Holy Rome the many morning he walked amongst their shower from the tree tops. The wind would occasionally lash angrily at early students in the morning, but it would die down before Mrs. Santium's class broke for lunch. Holy Rome quickly befriended the hyperactive America and his brother Canada, along with Korea. The young class was already flourishing, having received a steady stream of late comers into the class. Like the fourteen cedar trees crowning their building, fourteen students claim Mrs. Santium's room their haven, and the students their family.

There was the little girl named Liechtenstein, whose unwavering admiration for her brother shines through all the bleakest darkness as she put it. She was the girl that sat in the back of the classroom, trying her best to befriend Japan, attempting to put forth the message that he was cared for. Then there was Latvia, who stuttered a lot and suffered from a stunned growth syndrome called mild Dwarfism. He claimed, much to the class's disbelief, that it was because he was constantly crushed and was unable to grow because of this. They probably will never understand that what he says is true. Much to Mrs. Santium's delight, her little boy Greece was able to return by the start of the Halloween fever. His main objective was to take full advantage of the nap time given to the small countries. Greece had also made it his personal mission to become friends with the quite Japan, sitting with him 24/7 and constantly offering to sit with him at lunch or play with him. His efforts made much more progress than the considerate efforts of Liechtenstein. Despite their young age, every boy had their eyes on a particular beauty within their abode. Her mahogany hair glistened in the florescent lighting, collected into two symmetrical pigtails that framed her face quite cutely. Almost every male aside from Holy Rome fawned over when her eyes looked over in their direction, or whether she sat with them at lunch or not. The empire knew better than to even have any affection for another soul, especially one named Seychelles and raised by the most flirtatious man in school. For one, it could ultimately repeat the very memory he so desperately tried to escape from, and two, if Prussia found out his little brother had a crush, Holy Rome's embarrassment would be notorious.

The fifth child to bound into Mrs. Santium's was a little boy whose bird was removed from the premises the moment he stepped foot in the Autumn Grounds. Furiously balling his eyes out, he sorrowfully tells the class that he was Iceland, before shouting he would not call Norway his big brother. Despite this, the fat tears rolling down his cheeks made Mrs. Santium call Norway, and the child quickly hobbled into his arms without a moment's hesitation. Finally, the last student –oh boy—was yet another female who was in the slightest… headstrong. She contradicted every word that came from America's mouth to the fullest extent of her English knowledge. She created a rivalry between her and America, which within its self is completely ironic due to the fact that it was Vietnam. Alas, the Vietnam War had yet to of happened yet, so let's not try to ruin the children's live by giving them weapons to go along with their arguments.

Holy Rome did not mind seeing the new faces in the class. More people meant he would have a bigger cushion between him and Italy, although that was not much of an issue. Every morning Romano made a point to confront Holy Rome and spat Italian profanities, cursing the very ground he walked on for hurting Italy so much. Silently, the young empire endured each and every word before retreating back to his group of friends. Italy made a point to avoid Holy Rome just as much as he was, too taken aback by their abrupt meeting that ended quite lamely. She secretly wished, as she peaked around corners to watch Holy Rome, that he still loved her.

Within the first few weeks of attending school, a fist fight exploded on the campus grounds. Spain, France, and Prussia, the Bad Touch Trio as they were called, were responsible for counter acting the Soviet gangs vicious words with punches. The Soviet gang was a group of individuals that, like any other delinquent faction, discarded rules and disrespected teachers as though as it is as easy as breathing. This was the reasoning behind the second fight to break out at the World Academy. The end result was a three day suspension for Holy Rome, a broken rib, and a battered pride. Unbeknownst to him, Italy witnessed the entire fight behind the safety of a tree, gasping each time the empire was struck. She wished he would have run the first time the leader kicked him to the ground, but he did not hear her silent plea. By the time Holy Rome was fit to return back to the Autumn Grounds, Halloween was only but a mere week away. And like the slow terror it was, the third fist fight loomed around the corner with regrettable consequences.

* * *

_Welcome to the World Academy!_

_Our Halloween Festival is about to start!_

_Come join us on the Autumn Grounds the night before Halloween for a hauntingly fun time! _

_Wear your best costume for our annual dress up contest!_

Prussia had flashed the poster in front of Holy Rome's face so many times he could have sworn he would be color blind by the night. The outrageous oranges and purples and blacks were messing with the mechanics in his eyes as they try to focus and unfocus quickly to read the print being waved in his face. Out of frustration, the young empire snatched the paper from his hands in order to read it. Once he finished scanning his words across the page, he glanced up to encounter Prussia with the widest grin ever. His younger brother was admittedly suspicious, knowing that smile could mean one of two things. 1) He was going to prank Holy Rome or 2) He was going to get other people (As well as Holy Rome) for his personal enjoyment. The young nation couldn't help but groan inwardly, before he questioned his brothers obvious intentions.

"What are you planning brother." Holy Rome neatly folded the poster up, sitting aside as he awaited his brothers response.

"You don't know what happens at the Halloween Festival?"

He rolled his eyes, "This is my first year. Of course I don't."

"Well brother," Prussia hoped onto the couch, nearly squishing his brother against the plush throw pillows, "They have a Masquerade ball every year."

Holy Rome responded with a blank look, "So."

"I'm going to ask Hungary to go to it!"

"Oh…" Holy Rome couldn't exactly say he was happy. He knows if things would have turned out differently he would be asking… _her _to go with him. He supposed he could still do that, but why bother? He already ruined whatever shattered pieces remained from their previous relationship. He'd much rather leave it all behind and be done with.

_But it won't go away. _He prompted himself. _No matter what happens, I can't escape the past I made. I should just own up to it and go on with my life, and stop having it drag me down._

Could it be that easy? Surely not. Letting his pride go, he knew is something he could not do. It was a German thing, to retain the pride and security and not let it go. He couldn't bring himself to admit he was wrong for doing it, even though the back of his mind was urging him to do so. No. He would continue on normally, and not give Italy a second thought. He could do it, if he focused hard enough. Eventually, he would be able to evade the creeping panic attacks he was beginning to experience every time Italy came into his vision. Evading her was driving him absolutely _insane. _He would just have to learn to completely block her out because honestly, he had no idea how long he could avoid her before something went wrong.

"Brother? Is everything… okay at school?" Prussia was no fool, and was defiantly not the dense awesomeness he was known to be. He could see a change in Holy Rome. He was acting almost more mature. It unsettled his older brother to no end. Just a few months ago, he was happy, go-lucky, and acted as though as he was free from worry. Now it's the exact opposite.

Holy Rome could not feign it any longer. With a defeated sigh, he murmured a quiet 'no'.

"Will you talk to me about it?"

Again, he was responded with a no.

"Come on. It's bugging you a lot. I can tell." Prussia prodded his brother's side, not getting the usually ticklish reaction he was used to receiving. Holy Rome just casted a half glare his way, before occupying his mind with other objects around the room.

Their relationship was straining, the twines bounding brother to brother seemingly coming unraveled. The stress was eating away at the both of them, under different circumstances. Holy Rome fretted over his school year with his forgotten/purposely ignored love, while Prussia worried for his brothers, well, sanity. Prussia did not pester his brother. He simply got up and left, because there no other remedy to the situation. If he continued to try to coax the truth from his little brother, Holy Rome will only grow more agitated. Prussia did not want to burden him with any more stress then he had to deal with.

Holy Rome swipes his gaze over to the piece of paper Prussia didn't bother to collect. An idea circulated in his head, ready for him to act upon it. Maybe if he became a bad student, Italy would lose interest in him. If he could convince her he has changed drastically in the past few years, that could probably sway her feelings, and therefore would mean she would leave him alone. That's all he could possibly think about. He didn't want to own up to it in the slightest. No, like the person he was, he was trying to solve the problem using any options other than that. He just wanted to run away, escape. He is absolutely positive he could do it too. He could free himself from his past. It was full proof. Except for one thing.

Prussia.

Holy Rome rolled his eyes. If Prussia caught on to his act, he would be very upset. But he doesn't understand what the young nation is going through right now. It shouldn't matter, should it? He shook his head no, answering his own question. Plans formulated in his brain, one after the other, giving him so many ideas to carry out that he had no idea which on to start with. He settled on the last thing to enter his mind.

He was going to sabotage the Halloween Festival, due to his sinful pride.

_I can do it. If I want Italy to leave me alone, I have to ruin everything to such a degree that they will instantly think of me as a problem child. _With his hardened resolve, Holy Rome scurried to his room in order to prepare for the task at hand.

Through it all, Austria was watching the child, noting the evil intent in his eyes. He carried on as though as he never saw it. This in itself would be the greatest thing the young piano player will ever regret.

**Ta-da! Sorry for the long wait! There's more to come I promise!**

**-Soul Spirit-**


	4. Playing with Luck

**Chapter 4: Playing with Luck**

The Autumn Grounds never looks as festive as this. Light are strung all across the grounds, lighting up silly jack-o-lanterns or bats that hang from the wires. Streamers of bloody orange and ebony black are thrown into the trees, transforming the surrounding areas into a Halloween wonderland. Booths are set up to advertise clubs, give out candy brains, and to play various carnival games for free. When one person would look up at the sky, they would immediately point it out to surrounding bystanders for it is a sight to see. The Halloween lights dance across the obsidian backdrop of the sky, making them look like shooting stars traveling with the wind across the horizon. Local bands play songs they conjured up in their garages. All categories of students, whether it is the jocks or the nerds or the popular, come together on this one day and mingle. Friends take pictures in remembrance of such a lovely time. The exquisitely colored leaves have all been racked up by the members of Saturday's detention, leaving the grounds like a canvas waiting to be painted upon. One section that is less dense than the others houses a dance floor so young couples could literally dance the night away to carefully monitored songs. The students weaving in and out of the trees, taking in the festive lights or the wonderful food being offered are all dressed up. For one night out of the entire year, they can become someone entirely different. All they need is a good wig and makeup, and they could be almost unrecognizable. Even the teachers are hidden underneath masks of witches and Jasons, making distinguishing friends next to impossible.

Holy Rome likes the prospect of this. He knows that Italy would be there, like everyone else in Mrs. Santium's class. But with a costume, she couldn't follow him because she couldn't tell who he was. It is also an ace up his sleeve. If he is unidentifiable, then he could reack havoc all night.

It is perfect. Almost too perfect to be exact.

Underneath the false skin of the grim reaper, Holy Rome pulls his black cloak closer to his body. Not one inch of skin is visible, he inwardly mocks. But no amount of self-pleasure could deny the fact that one feature of his could be seen. He would never realize it, but the powder blue of his eyes, not veiled by his white mask, would be the very salvation he would need. However, it's not time for that.

Now it's time to destroy the Halloween festival.

Holy Rome never could have imagined that the entire school would be attending. He assumed that one or two loyal students would show up, stick around for an hour, and hightail it out of there before they are caught in the first place. It never really crossed his mind how many people would get into the Halloween spirit. Nevertheless, he would carry out his plans, even though there is an even greater chance of him being caught by someone.

Holy Rome maneuvers around the costumes of fellow students, incasing himself in their own camouflage as he makes his way to the booths of the festival. His idea is a simple run of the mill trick, spiking the drinks with alcohol in order to turn everything into a disordered mess. Luckily, knowing exactly where Prussia's 'secret stash' is, he is able to get ahold of the liquor without any hitch. He is currently concealing it underneath his cloak, making the bottle blend into his costume. Examining some of the people's costumes, he notices America and his little brother, dressed up like a cowboy and a polar bear respectively, following the fishtails of a man imitating a pirate. He deduces that the man is his friend's caretaker, England. _Man he does have caterpillars on his face._

Holy Rome has to pause for a moment in order to observe the next Halloween spectacular. It is an actual walking dragon. Its body is a sleek crimson red, with a huge mouth enabling it to swallow six Holy Rome's in one go. It shimmies through the crowd gracefully, never missing an exotic beat of its ancient dance. Its golden eyes sway to and fro to the beat of music. For a brief, unrecognizable moment, there is just the world and Holy Rome. There was no worry of Italy; there was no plot of bad intentions. There was just a boy in a grim reaper costume, watching one of the many wonders this world has to offer. It is enticing. It almost makes him want to detour away from his plans and follow the mystical enchantment that is the dragon. But his pride gets the better of him. His early maturity overrules any childish way he is supposed to be prone to. He shakes his head, reprimanding himself silently for getting distracted, and carries on his way.

Once the dragon has disappears off to some unknown land—because to Holy Rome's knowledge, he thinks it is real—he is able to get a better look at the crowd he is dealing with. He has to slip in and make sure he isn't seen, and to do this he has to be aware of how many possible witnesses there is. Scanning the crown, he notes that there is at least twenty or more party goers. Among them is Prussia, dressed as a soldier, and his date Hungary, as a zombie beauty queen. Holy Rome grimaces at the happy twinkle in his brother's eye when he takes her hand and places a soft kiss on it.

_How could you love another country so easily?_ He asks silently, watching him from afar. _You have no idea how difficult this is for me. You have it easy. I bet you'll leave her though. Just like when I left-_

"Holy Rome?" Holy Rome's body seizes up, preventing him from turning around to answer the soft spoken voice. He knows who it is without having to turn around. He could picture the wayward curl and the soft smile, the rosy cheeks and the mint colored dress he had once loved and then let go.

It is Italy.

_How could she recognize me?!_ Holy Rome scrambles to get away from Italy, running into the legs of a man in the process. She gasps quietly, making his face burst out into a bright red color that is conveniently hidden by his mask. He dusts of his cloak, preparing to apologize to the person he ran into. When he looks up, his eyes meet a pair of frozen lilac orbs, something Holy Rome has seen before on one other occasion. He takes a few steps back, his mind reeling hard. Is it the person he thinks it is? A mask obscures their face, but when they reach down and pluck Holy Rome off the ground, he realizes with a dread that it is. The alcohol slips from its hiding spot, landing on the ground with a soft thud.

"Brat." He snarls into his face, gripping his costume in such a way that the cloak dug into his windpipe, effectively silencing any remarks he has for the man, "Do I need to teach you how to walk?"

Shaking his head back in forth trying to loosen the material, he manages an airy reply, "You first."

A sudden anger ignites in his eyes, one that is infamous at the World Academy. This is not Holy Rome's first run in with the boy, and would not be his last. But it could be his most deadly. The leader of the Soviet gang, a man by the name of Russia, whistles for his counterparts to follow, before carrying Holy Rome off into the Autumn Ground. Party goers think nothing of it, only assuming that they were leaving to have some fun like everyone else. Only one person on the entire campus knew otherwise.

So she decides the only option is to follow.

Russia tosses the young empire to the ground once they reach the pond, finding it a relatively deserted spot to teach a few lessons he has in mind. Holy Rome glares up, his hatred emitting from his mask like it is a tangible thing. Three more people accompany the leader, their forms obliterated by the darkness. They are too far away for any form of light, making the moon the only source of visibility.

"Now let's see who the stupid one is." Russia says, prying the mask off Holy Rome's face.

His eyes darken, his lips drawn into a snarl at the results. The empire is well aware of what happens when you fight the gang a second time. You're dead. Marked for life. And it is easy to see Russia doesn't forget a face easily. A knot twists in his stomach, encouraging him to flee for his life. Like any other common sense, Holy Rome throws it to the wind, and instead stands on his two feet and practically _encourages_ the four older, stronger boys to take him on.

"Tch. Doesn't surprise me. You Germans are stupid anyway." He sneers, receiving encouragement from his crew.

"So what does that make Russians again? Stupid and ugly?"

Before Holy Rome can even see it, Russia's foot connects with his ribcage, knocking him to floor. The young country wheezes, gulping the oxygen back he has just lost from the impact. His ribcage throbs, making him aware of the giant bruise that will be present tomorrow.

"You puny country. Do you want to get killed? Four against one does not work in your favor. Of course you could get on your knees and beg for forgiveness. I might consider letting you go then."

Holy Rome spits out a wad of blood that is collecting the back of his throat, probably the result of the internal bleeding he isn't aware of. Not staying down for long, he gets back up, wiping his mouth of the sticky substance.

"Go to hell."

Holy Rome is prepared for the next kick, effectively dodging it before it can land a hit. Russia's eyes are completely visible in the moonlight, making gauging his next attack easy. The empire just keeps moving back, ending his attempts before he could hurt him again. What he didn't realize is Russia is strategically leading him closer and closer to the water. Holy Rome is only aware of this fact when his feet back up so far that he just walks right into the shallow water.

All four of the Soviets, their red bands just a flash in the night, pounce on the young country suddenly.

They snatch the fold of his cloak, pulling him under the water. The October's chill shocks his body into momentary submission, allowing the other countries to get a good hold on him. Once he is able to recover, he struggles vainly against the hands holding him down. His efforts make the breath bubble from his mouth faster than he would have liked, and before he knows it he is out of air and blacking out.

_No!_

Holy Rome grapples for purchase, tearing at the material that is weighing him down. The fabric falls from in-between his fingers, having been ripped by the pressure of their strength. The empire manages to break the surface of the water for a moment, gasping hard for air, before he is pushed back under, now by the hair he knows he can't get free from. The pulsation in his ribcage could not amount to the pain it feels like to drown. It is almost like their hands are inside him, squeezing his lungs so tight that he just wishes his heart would hurry up and stop. His head is pounding so hard, attempting to shut down useless limbs and organs to preserve the all-important core. His body's instincts are not helping him. On the contrary, it is actually prohibiting his survival, slowing him down so much that he could no longer wrestle against the Soviet's hands.

_It wasn't worth it._ He decides sleepily, closing his eyes against the water. His intentions are not worth it. He regrets even suggesting it in the first place as a solution. Now where has it lead him? To his own grave. _Just like that child that went missing._ He is reminded of. _I hope they like to play games at least. Not like how I constantly play with my luck until it runs dry._

"HOLY ROME!" The voice breaks through the water's surface.

His body is dragged from the suction of the pond, finally freeing him from the deadly bonds. His head lulls to the side and his eyes flitter open, fighting against his need to pass out. The little gulps of air entering and leaving his lungs leaves him light headed, but not to the point that he isn't aware of his surroundings.

He can see three blurry figures, fighting back against the gang. Three vs. three, he could distantly hear each slap of skin on skin as they throw punches at one another. They are moving away from him, giving him and the blurry face hovering over him enough space to recover.

"Holy Rome? Holy Rome!?" He is being shaken, or at least he thinks so. His body feels so numb; it is hard to register the rocking of his form.

"He's got a gun!" Someone shouts, their voice gurgled and half translated.

For a moment, the blur that is their face comes together, forming two fear stricken eyes, a well-rounded face, and a single protruding curl. Behind that, is a barrel of the gun. Holy Rome feels his body launch up, like he is trying to save Italy from the last Soviet, the leader, wielding a gun he has kept hidden until now. His body seizes up; an reaction to the gun shot that suddenly goes off. Unexplainable, Holy Rome's vision goes black and the world ceases to exist around him.

**What do you think has happened? Review to tell me!**

**-Soul Spirit-**


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